


drowning deep

by m_k_ch



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Blood and Gore, Horror, M/M, Vent fiction, Yandere, im disgustign
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 09:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6561379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_k_ch/pseuds/m_k_ch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't understand why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	drowning deep

**Author's Note:**

> written because  
> a.) this is my definition of vent fiction  
> b.) i have a thing for yanderes  
> c.) i've wanted to write horror, blood, gore, all that shit for a long time now  
> d.) i am grade a disgusting
> 
> may or may not change your opinions on me. please don't think atohiyo is a bad ship. blame the person who makes such terrible fanfic instead (pls dont hate me)

It was always like this. Hiyoshi would hug him from behind and Atobe would lean on him before continuing his work.

He hugged him.

But now he didn’t lean. He was stiff and he didn’t pay any attention to Hiyoshi.

The world beneath him shook.

His voice was small and shaky, quiet enough near his ears to make him feel the aching worry. “Keigo?”

He counted his mistakes that he had done. He summarized them through his head and his eyes scanned Atobe’s face for any expression. No anger. No hate. He was staring off into space and Hiyoshi relayed through his memories. It gnawed his insides and his arms tightened around Atobe further until Atobe moved and Hiyoshi's arms unlocked, sinking his heart deep into a bubbling pool of anxiety. His mouth agape, his eyes wide and arms still as he stood straight.

Standing felt like being tied to a pole and being burnt. Atobe’s eyes met his and he wasn’t drowning anymore.

He emerged, but it was harder to breathe than before.

“Hiyoshi.”

His eyes engulfed him in flames and the smoke was choking him.

Hiyoshi bit his tongue and spit at him. “If there’s anything wrong, tell me. Don’t hide it.” His brows furrowed and he clenched his fist, anger slowly boiling him hot and scalding. “You know what’s best for us, right?”

Atobe put his head on his hand and Hiyoshi stepped forward to touch it, but it merely grazed his skin, soft and feathery and _piercing._

“I’m sorry.”

He never knew apologies could hurt.

“What the hell do you mean.” Asking as if it was more of a statement than a question. He was testing him. “Just say it.”

The slight touch of his hand was still there, tickling prickly needles on his fingers. His hand twitched at the smallest offense.

“I’ve had enough.”

“What the hell do you mean!” His voice shook from the shout and Atobe didn’t show any tension, but his eyes fell downcast and it felt more painful than the slightest of touch.

Yet his body was wrapped by Atobe’s arms, engulfing him tightly with his scent and his wholeness. He felt like adrenaline, but his body instead responded with stillness and shock.

“I love you, Hiyoshi.” Atobe whispered on his neck. He didn’t feel any surging blood on his neck nor his face. “I really do.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“And I’m very, truly sorry.” He moved away and kissed Hiyoshi’s cheek. Searing, just like when he avoided Hiyoshi’s hand.

His eyes were closed yet his face scrunched up like in pain, and Hiyoshi put his hands on his face as if to massage it away. “Hey.” He said to no one. Not to Atobe.

“It’s better if we part ways,” his eyes were still closed, and Hiyoshi urged to… press his thumb against. “I love you, but I have mistaken myself.” Hiyoshi’s hand grasped his face tighter, flying Atobe's eyelids open but not inching away. Even if Hiyoshi’s fingers dug through his skin.

“I don’t want to hurt you by continuing this one-sided relationship of ours.” Atobe’s hand pulled Hiyoshi’s hands down, only to lift his own hand to stroke the tear-stained cheeks of Hiyoshi. Hiyoshi’s face pulled into a scowl, anger evident at his own failure.

 _What did I do, Keigo?_ He wanted to ask.

“I shall offer you a drive home.” Atobe pulled away but Hiyoshi clawed at his arm, turning Atobe. “Is there anything wrong that I’ve done?”

Atobe sighed, defeated, and Hiyoshi wanted nothing but to pull his vocal cords out for answers. “You haven’t--”

“Then is it someone? Is it someone else that made you feel different?”

Atobe went for a shock, mouth agape at his accusation. There isn’t anyone, is it?

“Never! I have never cheated on you or fell for someone else!”

“Then what is it? What did I fail to do and you decide to break it off?” Hiyoshi’s hand pulled him closer, but Atobe forced it away in frustration, but softened and laid his hands on his shoulders. “Please don’t blame yourself. You’ve heard me clear, right?” His voice went low as a whisper, and Hiyoshi felt… mocked. “It won’t work.”

Atobe stepped backwards, and suddenly the adrenaline pumped through his veins, releasing a choked sob and a river of woes. He sobbed louder than when he had at the most painful moments, breaking his tear ducts of all held back sadness and, and…

It was _mockery._ He was wrapped in an embrace yet again, but it only triggered madness. Covering his awful cries were taken full offense of Atobe’s actions.

“I gave my love to you.” He forced out. Atobe's hand didn’t stroke Hiyoshi's hair like what he would always do. “I don’t understand.”

He wanted to hear Atobe cry. Did he not care? It pissed him off.

Atobe wasn’t crying and he was only hugging Hiyoshi as if it would fix what already was shattered.

His hands found its way to Atobe’s chest, clutching the fabric in defeat.

“Why?” He asked, shakily and weakly. “Why, then?” He tightened his fingers and dug into him. “Why?” He asked again, his hands trailing higher and his fingernails grazing harder and Atobe started to inch away, his words muffled by the pounding in Hiyoshi's ears.

“Why, Keigo?” he asked louder, looking straight to his eyes despite the blur. He felt veins on his fingertips.

And then he was choking, flailing, the cold floor being thumped as Hiyoshi’s fingers tightly wrapped around his neck, keeping his red face steady even as he thrashed about. Atobe’s hands forcibly tried to remove his hands with his throat trying to choke out a scream.

Hiyoshi only stared with raged intent and his thumbs pressing on his air pipe, but as Atobe’s eyes leaked out tears, a smirk twitched on the corner of his lips and it was like when he was underwater when he slammed his head on the floor.

Reddening eyes drowned Hiyoshi again, but at the same time he was on fire.

A push, however, made Hiyoshi breathe above the waters again. He was floating, but he wasn’t.

He heard coughing and it made the right side of his head throb painfully. His anger made it worse, like wisps licking the inside of his skull.

“Did you ever love me?” he stood from his place, watching two feet stumble backward with the sounds coughing. His voice raised high and he launched himself at Atobe. “It’s unfair, isn’t it, Keigo?”

The objects on the table clattered loudly as they fell, breaking the screeching sonata. He laid on top of Atobe, his hand on his neck yet again and his other grasping the table with crumpled paper and bumps of pens and stationery.

Atobe attempted so badly to yell, but what only came out were indecipherable coughing, his face rather showing more than his voice.

“I love you,” his hand rammed at the side of Atobe’s head, his mouth open in a silent scream. The impact rang through his knuckles like static, trembling his fingers in bliss. “I really did love you.

“But _why?_ ” he asked through raking fingers and scraping skin. His fingers stained beauty terribly, caking his nails of what was left of Atobe. “Did you throw that all away?”

His face bled on the wrinkled papers beneath him. His fingers ran through the pens and pencils and grabbed was what he felt were cold and metal.

Atobe’s eyes widened and he pushed Hiyoshi off him, hitting his head yet again. Hiyoshi screamed. He felt his fingers being pried open and in panic, he threw his hand up and glistening red dripped effortlessly on his arm.

Atobe's chokes were louder as he clutched his face, balancing himself to be able to stand.

His arm was in a rush, swinging high and down directly his shoulder.

“I don’t,” Another swing. “ _understand._ ” a sickening crack played sweetly on his ears. “Not at all--” the floor was painted a very dark red, staining their clothes. “ _\--not at all._ ”

Atobe’s mouth foamed with spit and blood and bile. His eyes flowed and Hiyoshi struck again.

His arms felt like feather as they fell. The last things that he touched was Hiyoshi's arms before he would rot under him.

Hiyoshu crouched his body and dropped the scissors, no longer feeling Atobe's chest move nor his mouth giving a struggled breath. His body was now filled with pits, arranged in an uneven terrain of flesh and bone. His throat spurted out blood like a broken pipe.

There were his eyes again. Staring lifelessly at Hiyoshi, and Hiyoshi can no longer feel the pull of it underwater.

Hiyoshi screamed an angry voice and clawed Atobe's eye sockets.

**Author's Note:**

> terribly sorry (i guess?)
> 
> i might actually focus more on horror. but since i love atohiyo it might be even romantic horror.


End file.
